


starry-eyed emotion

by achalk



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, S1, Stargazing, also canon is dead to me, soft bus kids, the observant reader will notice that not a lot happens in this fic. like at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25112773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achalk/pseuds/achalk
Summary: “Hey, Jem?” Skye’s voice comes out sounding breathy, and she’s sure she’s just gone and made this weird, but then Jemma’s eyes meet hers and there’s something so warm there, so earnest, something that feels like -
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 60





	starry-eyed emotion

**Author's Note:**

> title from We Are Golden by MIKA  
> 

“Skye, you really shouldn’t be going up there… “

Coulson is looking up at Skye disapprovingly through the slats of the rickety stairs. “Just wait ten minutes and May’ll be back to pick us up, so in the meantime if we could not go gallivanting around the extraction point, that would be great-”

“Geez, AC! don’t get your knickers in a knot, I just want to see the stars and stuff, y’know,” Skye says, gesturing toward the roof as she bounds up the stairs with far too much energy for someone who has just been shot at on a secret spy mission thing.

He raises his eyebrows incredulously. “’Stars and stuff?’”

“Yeah, is it so hard to believe that I’m being contemplative and introspective?”

The look on Coulson’s face says that yes, in fact, that _is_ rather hard to believe. “I’m surprised you even know those words, to be honest.”

“…Wow, okay, great to see you think so highly of me,” she retorts sarcastically after a shocked moment. “I’ll only be ten minutes, and that’s at the _most_ …” Coulson thinks she followed that up with something else, but her voice has gotten quieter and he knows that she’s probably completely disregarded his objection and run off to the roof anyway. The derelict, abandoned shed was a small walk away from the drop site, and the whole team (minus May, who was bringing the bus for extraction) was hanging around waiting (or at least it _was_ the whole team, before Skye decided to go stargazing who-knows-where). Honestly, if that girl could just sit still and wait for a _few minutes_ without running around and making trouble – but Coulson knows telling Skye to be patient and not touch things is like asking the sky not to be blue. _Oh hey, it’s a pun,_ he thinks tiredly, because apparently it’s now possible to think tiredly.

(One of these days, he’s dumping this godforsaken team onto Maria Hill.) 

* * *

Skye is fully aware that this is probably bad place to be – or at least what Ward would deem to be one. She can practically hear him (“you’re vulnerable, exposed, and from here I can count at least ten angles you could be shot from,”) but it is rather breathtaking, really. The roof is quiet, and Skye appreciates the respite from the noise and terrifying mission stuff that was happening less than a half hour ago.

Laying on her back, she tries to count the stars as they flicker above her, strung like fairy lights across the jet black. You don’t see the stars so much when you permanently live on a plane, and now she appreciates the simplicity of them, and how insignificant they make her feel. It’s reassuring, it a strange kind of way.

Skye’s not sure how long she’s been up there, but it doesn’t feel like long before she hears the gentle thudding of feet on the metal. The familiar smell of vanilla greets her, and it’s almost ( _almost!)_ embarrassing that she can tell who it is just from that.

“Coulson sent me to tell you – oh.”

Jemma’s voice falters imperceptibly on that last syllable, and Skye rolls over to look up at her. Jemma’s face is almost dazed in a way that seems vaguely familiar, but Skye can’t quite place it.

“Hey, Earth to Simmons, Coulson wanted to say what?”

 _That_ snaps her out of it - Jemma seemingly comes back to herself with a start, blushing (and that’s _important_ , but why, Skye doesn’t quite know). “Right! Yes. Of course. Coulson said, er, - there was a mix-up, and May will be arriving for extraction a little late.”

“Wow, _May’s_ late? Coulson must be worried.”

Jemma laughs a little at that. “Yes, he’s pacing and all flustered. Very out of sorts,” she finishes with a small smile.

“I should probably go and check on him – y’know, before he gets all, grr, work mode, rawr.” Skye says it with the intention to do it, but she makes no move to get up, and neither does Jemma. They’re silent for long enough that it’s bordering on awkward, until it’s Jemma who finally breaks the silence with:

“Or, maybe – we could stay here, for a bit?”

She is tentative, her eyes shyly looking at Skye with this soft kind of warm curiosity, anxious for Skye’s answer.

Grinning, Skye beckons her over with a smile. “Yeah, we can stay.”

Jemma lays down next to her, and they both lay on their backs with the stars spread above them, just for looking.

“Hey, you see that one?” Skye points to a particularly bright star, separate from the clusters. “That one’s called Sirius.”

Jemma turns to face her, the epitome of innocent confusion, and Skye is now realising that maybe Simmons (the girl with 2 PHD’s by the age of 17) might not have been the best person to play this game with.

“No, it’s not, actually, the constellation Sirius is all the way over here, you’ll see, if you just -” Jemma’s pointing to a constellation that’s nowhere near where Skye was looking. Whoops.

Jemma’s talking about Sirius and Orion and the mythology behind it all and it’s not that it’s boring, per se (because while Skye doesn’t understand half of what comes out of Jemma’s mouth, Jemma could never be _boring_ ), but it’s easy for Skye’s mind to wander to really important things - like how Jemma’s face looks in this light, how her eyes sort of twinkle and the stars seem to echo that, how her lips look ever-so-soft and how she’s beautiful, really, there’s no other word for it.

It is then that her brain decides to tell her that Jemma’s been talking this whole time and she wasn’t paying attention but now Jemma’s looking at her kind of expectantly like she’s waiting for an answer and what does she do now oh god oh god–

“Skye? Is everything alright?”

 _Snap out of it._ This is probably the dazed look that she couldn’t place earlier, and now she’s doing it, and she definitely knows why.

“I’m listening, sorry – just, um, wasn’t paying attention – “Skye cuts herself off, not knowing what to say, and bites at her bottom lip somewhat nervously – and notices Jemma’s eyes subtly following the movement.

Huh.

“Hey, Jem?” Her voice comes out sounding breathy and it sounds weak even to her ears, and she’s sure she’s just gone and made this weird, but then Jemma’s eyes meet hers and there’s something so warm there, so earnest, something that feels like –

Jemma’s lips are soft, and Skye would say that they taste like the strawberry Chapstick she’s sees in the lab sometimes because they do, but more importantly (because Skye has apparently become a walking cliché and yet can’t find it in herself to care), they _feel_ like energy and adventure and home and some kind of magic, and every other wonderful thing under the stars.


End file.
